


Seven Hundred Thread Count

by troublebuster



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, TSUKISHIMA'S HEART IS STUPID HARD THIS TIME, the nsfw is super softcore, tsukishima is so stupid in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troublebuster/pseuds/troublebuster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re twenty-something and happy, and Tsukishima always wakes up before Yamaguchi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Hundred Thread Count

Sometimes, Yamaguchi rolls over and blinks sleepily at the slanted light on his eyelids, and Tsukishima is looking at him. Glasses off, hair pressed flat to the side of his head from sleep, and he’s looking with the tiniest furrow between his brows.

When Yamaguchi mumbles a sleepy “Good morning,” at him, Tsukishima blinks a few times, almost dazedly,  and his mouth twitches. Yamaguchi pushes himself up, and his (Tsukishima’s? Their clothes all blend together at this point) shirt is creased and there’s a line of dried drool on his face, but before he can ask what’s wrong, Tsukishima pushes himself out of their bed. He stands and rubs a thumb at the drool on Yamaguchi’s face but his brows don’t unfurrow, and he always runs a warm hand down Yamaguchi’s neck before turning to use the bathroom.

He stands in their bathroom and brushes his teeth slowly, staring at his reflection like it’s speaking to him in a language he doesn’t understand. Yamaguchi’s toothbrush sits in the cup next to the faucet, and Yamaguchi’s moisturizer has the cap off again. Tsukishima always screws it back on, his toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth and his lips covered in toothpaste. He spits and rinses the sink and rubs cold water into his cheeks, puffy from sleep, until he can believe that he might actually awake.

 Yamaguchi sits in their bed and rubs at his eyes tiredly, sheets pooled around his legs. He hears the sink running and then not and the flick of the light switch. Tsukishima pads back towards their bed. Yamaguchi can see the lines pressed into his forearms from their sheets in the late morning light.

Tsukishima comes to a stop in front of Yamaguchi and doesn’t hesitate to reach forward and hold his face. Tsukishima’s hands are usually cold by now but Yamaguchi doesn’t flinch, just blinks sleepily and smiles softly. He whispers another good morning and Tsukishima returns it, though he looks almost suspicious of Yamaguchi. He rubs his thumbs over the tops of Yamaguchi’s cheeks and down the sides of his face. He stares at the top of Yamaguchi’s head and Yamaguchi can’t feel his cheeks where Tsukishima is rubbing them after a while, and he stretches. When Tsukishima seems a little more satisfied that Yamaguchi is real and solid and still kind of confused from sleep, he drops one hand and slides the other into Yamaguchi’s bangs and ruffles his hair. He turns and walks to the kitchen, and Yamaguchi follows a few minutes later.

On days like this, Tsukishima usually ends up dropping to his knees in their kitchen and blowing Yamaguchi before they decide on breakfast, or Yamaguchi fucks him slow and sweet in the afternoon on their couch. They don’t talk about how Tsukishima can’t seem to get his quick-wit going that day, or how he can’t seem to stop touching Yamaguchi’s face, like he can’t trust that Yamaguchi is there at all. Like Yamaguchi keeping his toothbrush in the same cup as his, or letting his unmatched socks sit in the bottom of a drawer they share is too good to be true.  

Other times, Tsukishima rolls over and blinks sleepily at Yamaguchi sleeping open-mouthed, face mashed into a pillow, and everything under his sternum feels uncomfortably warm.  He’s far too awake for having just woken up, and he swallows thickly. They’ve only been living together months but they’ve been together for longer. Yamaguchi has been around for even longer, much longer than he can even comprehend and his ribs start to ache at the thought of just how much Yamaguchi has been there. It’s certainly always too early for these kinds of thoughts, but on days like these, Tsukishima wakes up hands-y and hard and almost agitated with love.

Yamaguchi snores softly, and Tsukishima can’t believe that it makes him want to kiss him, drool and all, but it does. He scoots forward and reaches under the covers until he can feel the edge of Yamaguchi’s t-shirt and pokes his hands underneath. Yamaguchi mumbles to himself in his sleep and Tsukishima can feel him breathe where his hands are pressed to his stomach. He mutters Yamaguchi’s name, and his eyes are narrowed when he drags his hands to sit above the waistband of Yamaguchi’s boxers.

“Tadashi. Tadashi,” he says again, his voice quiet but insistent. Yamaguchi’s eyelids flutter before he cracks an eye open. Tsukishima curls his fingers over the top of Yamaguchi’s boxers and tugs once, and Yamaguchi immediately opens both eyes wide.

Tsukishima squints at him, red-faced, and that’s the closest he’s ever come to a smitten expression, but it’s enough for Yamaguchi to start kicking the sheets off along with his underwear, and they both shoulder themselves up. Tsukishima slips his own boxers down his legs with a bounce before he kisses Yamaguchi closed-mouthed because neither of them have brushed their teeth yet. He pulls Yamaguchi into his lap by the elbow, and they’re both hard.

He wants to take off both of their t-shirts but it’s early and he’s impatient, so he digs around underneath his pillow until he finds the lube from the night before last instead. Yamaguchi is decidedly awake now, and he pants quietly and Tsukishima knows the hair on the back of his head is a rat’s nest. The top of Tsukishima’s stomach goes hot with affection again and he presses his fingers into Yamaguchi’s bony hips.

He fumbles briefly with the lube before slicking himself up, and Yamaguchi watches, transfixed. He returns his hands to Yamaguchi’s hips, and Yamaguchi’s knobby knees dig hard into the bed on either side of Tsukishima’s waist. Tsukishima slides his warm palms down the sides of Yamaguchi’s body until he grips at his inner thighs. They’ve only been living together a few months, they’re still trying to do it on every surface they now share, so Yamaguchi is ready and pliant when Tsukishima guides his hips down.

They’re both only just awake and their muscles are soft from sleep so they can’t fuck with vigor, but Tsukishima manages to bounce Yamaguchi on his dick at a decent pace. Yamaguchi lets out a choked moan when he comes, and Tsukishima continues to rub at the head of his cock as his back arches forward. It takes Tsukishima another full minute to come, but when he does, his toes curl and he breathes out, “I love you.”

His face burns, and he hopes Yamaguchi hasn’t heard that bout of extreme sentimentality, but Yamaguchi slumps forward and his shoulders shake with something like excited laughter. Tsukishima slides down their bed until he’s laying horizontal and Yamaguchi follows, still in his lap and Tsukishima still inside him. He presses his chin into Tsukishima’s sternum and looks at him with wet eyes and a wobbly grin that threatens to split his face.

On these days, neither of them get out of bed until early afternoon, and Yamaguchi always asks Tsukishima to say he loves him again over lunch. Some days, he does.

There are also all the times in between. Days where there’s only one towel left in the bathroom and it’s still damp from the day before. Days when Yamaguchi goes to feed the fish after breakfast and he finds Tsukishima already there, murmuring to them softly, and he has to cover his mouth with both hands to keep from laughing at how cute it is. There are the days where Yamaguchi burns the omelet in the morning and days where he doesn’t, and there are days where Tsukishima is wearing one of his own socks and one of Yamaguchi’s. There are days when Tsukishima calls his mother and days when he doesn’t, and there are the days when the kitchen faucet leaks something fierce. There are the days when Tsukishima comes home late and they end up holding hands around the house until bed time because they’re still new to being together truly all the time, and Yamaguchi feels lonely eating dinner alone now. Tsukishima never refuses because of the way Yamaguchi smiles about it for days after.

And all times, all days, everyday, Tsukishima wakes up to Yamaguchi’s face smashed into one of their pillows, and he is utterly, stupidly in love. 

**Author's Note:**

> WOW HEY HELLO THERE, LONG TIME NO TSUKKIYAMA!!! im sorry about that and i missed writing them and i wish i had something that wasnt this to give but this is all i got. ive been working on a thing for them about aprons for 3 months now but its… i mean you know… DIFFICULT…i have no words to justify this but i hope everything i wanted to show comes across. i hope everybody feels what im trying to say with this one, even a little bit is fine. even just a tiny baby feel is good enough for me. 
> 
> i cant think of anything else to say about this. ciao, babies!!
> 
> edit// please let this fic die


End file.
